


Diary of a nobody

by inamedmypetdonatello



Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, Depression, Diary, Eating Disorder, Sad, Self Harm, Suicide, Trauma, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-01-23 23:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21328279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamedmypetdonatello/pseuds/inamedmypetdonatello
Summary: a small collection of my shitty diary entries because who’s not an attention whore sometimesWARNING !!!Please don’t read if you’re sensitive to mentions of:- sexual abuse- self harm- death of a loved one- suicide- eating disorders
Kudos: 1





	1. Tuesday, Nov 5th 2019

Dear diary,

I didn’t sleep well. Last night was trouble to say the least.

  
After five days of not attending classes, I had plenty of time to think about things, go to dance practice and mess up my sleep schedule even more.

  
The weekend wasn’t that bad, considering I spent all Saturday watching videos and reading and all Sunday meeting up with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while and going to dance practice afterwards.

  
Monday was surprisingly okay, up until nighttime hit and I couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard I tried. Which sucks, ‘cause I ended up falling asleep at around 6:00. I mean... same old shit, but I didn’t hear my alarm go off and I missed today’s first lecture. I got to uni at around 12:30 after endless debates with myself on whether it was worth it to move a muscle and leave the house or just miss another day of classes. Thank God, I decided to go with the former...

  
So, 12:30, I meet up with my 4 friends- Well... can’t really call them friends yet, but there’s 4 girls I hang around with. We talk and have a laugh here and there. We don’t share any interests, but that just adds variety to our conversations.

  
During class, A reminded me today’s Programming labs were cancelled, because of a rescheduled Programming lecture, which meant our two and a half hour break would be reduced to only a thirty minute break, after which followed not one, but two rescheduled lectures, from 15:00 to 17:00 and 17:00 to 21:00 respectively. At least it was kind of enjoyable.

  
Long story short, the day was exhausting, so I’m not going to talk about it any more.

I also want to talk about something else.  
And that is how my mental state is deteriorating again.

  
After literally having the best time of my life after years of constant struggling for about 3 months, I went back to feeling like shit. It’s not even my past problems that affect me much; if anything I’ve been working a lot on overcoming my trauma! (I’ll update you shortly on this.)

  
To be honest, I already have an idea about what’s happening inside my head, but I’m afraid to voice it out. I know I’m not the fattest person in the world, I know people see me as normal and someone may even think I’m attractive. I was doing so well, especially in September, as far as my body is concerned! I wore crop tops, tight shirts, tights, skinny jeans, shorts and so on. And I felt absolutely beautiful and confident for once. I thought everything was going well and that I’d finally come to terms with who I am inside out.  
However, it’s been a while since I started having the same thoughts I had before my high school graduation. Last night I even promised myself I’d fast today and tomorrow, especially since I found out I gained a pound.

I know, I KNOW it’s stupid! But I can’t stop thinking about it.

  
So, when my friend L gave me 3 cookies today, I couldn’t say “no” and I was so mad at myself. Same goes for when I bought a baguette to eat for lunch and a Twix to snack on. At least the coffee I bought had no sugar. I felt so guilty. Even now, all I can think about it how many calories those must have been.

  
I am convinced I know the reason why this is all happening again. Aside from the fact that these thoughts don’t go away as easily as I’d like, or the fact that I’ve been binging on Amberlynn Reid videos all day, I feel so stressed and under pressure right now. Truth be told, I knew my faculty has the most demanding subjects. But, honestly, I have no motivation whatsoever. I like my major, I was so focused to do well in my exams and get in this specific university... That does not mean I’m the most passionate about it, though. I’ve always wanted to study music. Everyone’s been telling me I can practice music as a hobby, but I really can’t do it like this. I’m selfish and sound like a spoilt kid, but I feel like this is not what I’m supposed to be doing.

I feel lost and largely inferior compared to my colleagues. Some of them did far better than I did in their exams, some of them already know much more than I do, they can solve exercises where I can barely take a first step (not that I’ve tried to solve any, I’m so unmotivated). I act like a lazy asshole and can’t stop comparing myself to them. I procrastinate and feel stupid, even though I do realize I’m not anything close to that.

Anyone who’s heard me say I feel like it’ll be too difficult for me has said that it’s too early for me to say that, but... I really do feel like maybe I made the wrong choice. I feel like a failure already and I haven’t even started. I feel like in two months time, in the first semester examination I’m going to completely fail! I’m going to fail all 6 subjects and that’ll be no one’s fault but mine! I literally feel like I’ve already lost all control of my life.

  
And that’s why I think my past thoughts on eating are coming back. Because I NEED control over something. I’m not stupid, I know this is bad, I know it won’t solve my problems. And I am aware that I’m clever enough to find out the reason why this is happening. So why am I still thinking about this? Why am I constantly finding flaws on my body and CONVINCING myself that I’m only having these thoughts because I want to lose weight? It sure does play a part, but I could do it in a healthy way had I wanted to simply because of that. I know this is more than just a physical thing and I’m scared.

  
Not only because this means there’s something mentally wrong with me, but also because even regarding this I feel like I’m going to fail. I feel like I’ll tell myself I’m not going to eat for a day and then either stuff myself on that day or the next one. And I’ll even lose control over that.

  
Not to be rude or anything, but I look up to A in a way. This is one of the things that scare me the most and I’m so angry at myself for even thinking like this. She’d be described as fat, she’s in fact double my size and a bit shorter than I am. There’s nothing wrong with being her size, aside from the health risks it may have, I have nothing against her and would never discriminate against her just because she’s heavier...

  
In the first few weeks of uni, we often talked about our routines, how we commute, when we wake up and generally stuff that had to do with our lifestyle ever since uni started. At some point we talked about meals or course and I mentioned I kind of stopped eating breakfast about a year ago. She then said she doesn’t eat breakfast and often goes through a day without eating at all. “Generally, I don’t eat throughout the day and only eat a portion of whatever mom’s made when I go back home.” is what she said to be exact.

  
To be honest, I didn’t believe that at first. I even mentioned the conversation to my best friend, D.

Me - “There’s no way she doesn’t eat and is still that big. Do you think she’s a bit delusional or..?”

D - “Maybe she doesn’t eat during the day, but binges at night..”

I regret thinking that way, too. I must have sounded like a total bitch. But at the time all my brain could think about was “you can’t be that big and not eat more than you should”.  
And, until today, I wasn’t completely convinced about it. But since we spent all day together today, I noticed a few things about her eating habits (since all I seem to be thinking about lately is food).

  
1\. She refused L’s cookies, despite the fact that L said she made them herself and wanted feedback, which is what got me to break.

  
2\. She refused to eat a piece of apple that S offered to her.

  
3\. She only ate the same sandwich I did around lunch time.

(Side note: I hate that I just realized I’ve been comparing myself to her all day.)

Therefore, I thought, maybe she indeed doesn’t each through the day. Maybe she does binge when she gets home. Or maybe (and this is the worst thought my awful mind has had so far) she’s not that different compared to me. What I’m trying to say is an ED can affect anybody. Whether she’s got a Binge Eating Disorder or she’s trying to lose weight, I cannot know. But I can’t ignore the fact that perhaps she’s not climbing up on the scale as of now, but instead is trying to lose a few pounds. GOOD FOR HER, however I still hate myself for thinking that way about her. If she’s losing weight healthily, I’m happy for her, because she seems like a good person and we may become friends and I want her to be healthy. But if she’s losing weight the unhealthy way... my sick mind kind of... idolizes that?

  
I know, I can’t believe those words left my mouth. “Idolize” what the actual fuck?! That’s insane.

  
Despite the fact I am aware that I’m being an asshole, I can’t help it. And it’s driving me crazy.

  
Anyway, last thing I want to mention about these thoughts is I’ve already planned what I’ll do tomorrow about food. I won’t eat breakfast, I’m going to find an excuse for not eating at uni and I’m going to tell my dad I’ve already eaten when I come back home. I know it’s wrong, I know I may fail, but that’s what my brain wants and I’m not keen on feeling like shit if I don’t do that tomorrow.

I mentioned I was going to update you on my trauma situation. I don’t care if someone reads what I’ll write or not, but for some reason I feel like I need to add a bit of a backstory here in order for my words to make sense.

  
Basically, I’ve suffered from trauma for almost a decade now. Not to be confused with PTSD, trauma is a milder version of said psychiatric disorder, to put it simply. It is up to professionals to differentiate the two, but from what I know (based on my experience), trauma is treatable, whereas PTSD may or may not be. Trauma is more common, while PTSD is a bit extreme.

  
Enough of that, I’m going to stop talking that much on stuff I can’t be sure about. In my case, I’ve experienced two main traumatic events. The first one could have not affected me as much had I not suffered from another trauma. It still is difficult for me to talk about what happened, but I’ve been working on it, by writing down how I feel, what happened etc over and over again. Therefore, writing about it is way easier now compared to how it was when I started. (Writing this helps as well)

  
First things first; when I was about 10 years old, I was almost raped by my uncle. I was visiting my grandma at our village back in the summer of 2011. We were about to leave the playground with my grandma, which is literally fifty feet away from our house. He pulled over and mentioned he had 5 kittens at his house in a village nearby and asked me if I wanted to go see them. I was naïve and didn’t think it’d be bad to go see the kittens, so after receiving three no’s as an answer from grandma, I convinced her to go with him (which majorly contributes to why I blame myself for what happened). First thing I remember after that is, since I was under the age of 12 (which is the legally acceptable age for a child to sit in the front seat of the car, next to the driver), I went to sit in the backseat. However, he said “Why are you sitting in the back? It will feel weird”.

  
I didn’t think it was a bad thing at first. Plus, I was excited to sit in the front seat... I started suspecting something was wrong when he asked me to give him a kiss. I kissed his cheek willingly, because he IS my uncle, but the turning point was when he said “On the mouth”. I got scared, so scared, so I did it. I smiled, because he smiled, but all that was going through my head was “this isn’t normal, something is wrong”. He grabbed my inner thigh and said “Do you remember last year, when we went on vacation to your cousin’s house? Do you remember what you said to me?”. I said “No.” He looked at me and said “You said ‘Uncle, you stimulate me’.”

  
I. Did. Not! I never said that. Even at that moment I knew I hadn’t, because I didn’t even know what that meant! And I did ask him back, “What does that mean?”. Little did I know he’d say it means to ‘turn someone on’, to ‘excite’ them. I did not say that.

  
So, by this point, I was already freaking out. Because I was sharp enough to realize he was lying to me, he was trying to get something sexual from me and he was making it look like I was the one who wanted it first! The perfect recipe to literally make me blame myself for everything that had and was about to happen.  
We didn’t say anything until we arrived at his house. Of course it was vacant; his wife was not there, his son? Not there either. He took me to their storage, where (surprisingly) were five kittens. He let me pet them for less than ten minutes and suggested we go back inside.

I agreed and we entered the small living room. He told me he’d go take a shower, which I found totally odd (why can’t you take one after I leave?) and left me there to watch some cartoons.

  
When he came back, he was wearing nothing, but a towel around his waist, which, again, made me question his actions and thoughts. He came closer to me and said something irrelevant about his son, before hugging me. He started rubbing my back, very slowly. It was creepy and weird, but it got scary when he put his hands under my shirt. I don’t know where I found the courage to ask “Uncle, what are you doing there?”. He brushed it off and led me to his bedroom.

  
It was dark, since it was past 9PM. He sat me down and said “Let’s make the atmosphere more romantic” and turned on a low-light lamp. He sat beside me - still with only a towel around his waist - and caressed my head. I said I wanted to go home, because grandma would be angry at me for being late. From this moment on I don’t remember anything, other than the fact that I was freaking out, was about to cry and wanted to go home. He somehow agreed though, because next thing I remember, I was in front of grandma’s house.

  
It didn’t end here, because he asked to sit for a bit to drink a coffee and talk with grandma. She couldn’t even imagine what had happened, so she said ‘yes’. They spent some time talking, while I was praying for him to leave already. My grandma left the table for a few seconds and, I will NEVER forget this; he looked at me, with the scariest look i’ve ever gotten, and put his finger over his lips to shush me. He whispered that what had happened should stay between us.

  
I was paralyzed. I felt like dying. I wanted to turn back time and not even think about petting any kittens. I felt stupid. I felt guilty. I was scared and thought I’d brought this on myself. I thought I should never see him again, or else he will definitely hurt me beyond repair. I wanted to leave, I wanted to go back home.

  
After he left, my grandma and I went for her walk. She took one every night with me to exercise her hurting knee. I wasn’t talking at all, because all I could think about was what had happened. I was scared to talk, but I was more scared of seeing him again.

  
So, I told her. The only thing I left out and still haven’t mentioned to anyone but my old therapist was the kiss in the car. She was shocked and of course told my parents. Two days later I was back home. No legal action was taken. Even though I now understand it must have been because there wasn’t any evidence, I still partially hate the fact that he was left unpunished for what he did, what he may have done to someone else and what he may do in the future. Especially ever since I found out he’s known for cheating and abusing his own wife.

  
As I fore mentioned, had I not experienced a second traumatic experience, the issue with my uncle wouldn’t have become as big a thing as it has become now. This was the catalyst for everything. A few months after the sexual harassment issue, my best friend in fifth grade was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She must have had it her entire life, but it only started affecting her 9.5 years later. She started chemotherapy and taking pills, missing school and visiting the hospital almost every day. For the next two toughest years of her life, she struggled and I was beside her almost every day, to offer her support, my love and hope. But sadly, two months after turning 11 she passed away.

  
I still vividly remember how my parents broke the news to me. When they woke me up at 3AM that morning, I thought they were surprising me with a trip, since we ofter went abroad back then, so I associated the dark 3AM sky with an early flight... But then they sat down in the kitchen, my dad sat me on his leg and told me how sometimes things don’t go that well in life, how there are tough moments as well as happy moments, dark and light, before breaking the news that my best friend had just left us.

  
I cried a lot. I screamed and kicked. My parents cried with me and it was the first time I ever saw my dad cry. I was in denial and couldn’t accept it. They asked me if I wanted to see her and I said yes. They took me to her and I said my goodbyes and paid my respects.  
I went to school three hours later. The whole class was heartbroken. We spent all day writing letters to her and I wrote a poem.

  
Her funeral was held on the same day. I was asked to read my poem and I couldn’t say no. I wanted her to hear how much I loved her and that I’d miss her. I broke down in tears and her father, who was very close to both of us, hugged me and said everything would be okay. I thought; who was I to be comforted by a parent who lost their child?

  
To this day, I haven’t been able to visit her grave. How cowardly and disrespectful...

  
Not even a year later, on January 2014, my great grandma, who was very close to me, passed away, too. Had she not been part of my childhood and early teenage years, I wouldn’t have been the person I am today. I still feel guilty that I didn’t cry when I found out about her death. I’d overheard my mom speak on the phone with my grandma who was taking care of my late great-grandma about it, so when my mom tried to break the news to me, I was numb. I hadn’t even come back to my past self since my best friend had passed away. All I could think was ‘another person who left me’. I was so selfish and broken. I finally cried and realized where I was when they were lowering her coffin and my dad asked me if I was okay. I broke down saying “It’s not even been a year and now this.” I’m sure he understood what I meant.

  
A year after that, on my mother’s birthday, her father passed away. My grandpa, to whom I’d barely ever talked, because I didn’t speak my mother’s mother tongue, whom I occasionally avoided because he smelled like alcohol, whom I never really got to know except from what my mom had told me.. he was gone, too. And on that specific day. He, too, had been diagnosed with cancer, most likely because of his past alcohol addiction. Once again, I didn’t cry. It’s just that... my heart broke. My heart broke because I felt sad for my mom, because I felt guilty for nearly not hugging him the last time I saw him, because he was the only grandpa I ever had and I could’ve learned so much from him, because I know he loved me, but I never gave him much in return. I feel awful...

  
I was devastated. That was the last straw.

That’s where the nightmares begun, that’s where any mention of death made me want to die even more. That’s when I turned to self-harming, because killing myself would hurt others. I felt guilty towards my beloved ones, I felt like I was alone. For the first time in my life I realized that, eventually, everyone I love will be gone. I think that’s when I completely lost myself and felt like giving up. I wanted to physically die, because I was already dead inside. But I couldn’t do that to my parents, family and friends, so I turned to cutting myself.

  
My trauma from losing these people led to having nightmares about my uncle. The depressing nightmares of happy times turning to black smoke and death switched to violent, explicit ones where far worse than what my uncle had done to me took over.

  
In the following years, I found many obstacles that worsened my condition, made me relapse and restart self-harming, while also adding a disordered eating story to the mix. I hid everything under a smiling mask. But I also made friends and found out I wasn’t the only one hurting... We helped and still help each other.

  
Fast forward to the end of senior year, my friends and I were happier than we’d ever been. We had succeeded in our exams, we had our future ahead of us and plenty of time to enjoy it. That summer, I was the happiest I’d been in a while. I started loving myself, telling myself I was worth to be happy. I changed my lifestyle, went out more, started eating well and didn’t care about anything. I was happy to start my university life and reach my goals.

And now... This. I feel like trash. I can’t sleep well. I’m nervous all the time. I question my choices. I hate the way I look. I want to starve. I feel like harming myself with every chance I get. I constantly think about death.  
One of my most common thoughts is killing myself. I don’t think I have the strength to do that. But I still think about it daily. I say stupid stuff to hint at it, like “Oh how I’d love for a comet to hit the earth before I have to finish my master’s degree”, “What’s the point of life anyway?”, but no one is listening. Or perhaps I’m not being loud enough.

  
I feel like disappearing. I just don’t see what the point is. I feel like I failed at the one shot I have in life already. I’m scared about my future. I don’t want to burden my parents for life. I don’t want to be alone my whole life, just because I’m scared of hugging a person. I hate my body, I hate my face and double chin. I feel stupid and even though there’s nothing materialistic I haven’t had that I wanted in life, I feel like there’s a huge void in me.

  
I am SO privileged, SO lucky to have been born with a healthy body, to have such good parents that love me and would do everything for me, to have people who care about me, to not lack food or a home and stupid stuff like a wifi connection to even type right now. I have the power to make the best of my life, to reach my goals. But I just... don’t feel like it.

I’m a greedy, ungrateful coward.

Someone else would die to be in my place. To have access to good education, to be a good student, to have loving people around me and so on. But here I am complaining about my life.

  
I’ve said it many times and will say it a hundred times more; I hate that I’m smart enough to realize how stupid I am.

  
I just hate the situation. I don’t know what to do, who to tell, what to think. What is the meaning of anything really. And if I did die in the end, so what? The world wouldn’t end. I don’t know; tomorrow I may get hit by a bus; I may fall off the stairs; I may discover I have an incurable disease; or even be murdered.  
I just want to know, if right now I want to die so much, what would I think the moment I die?

  
I’ve overcome this once, I know it can get better. So why do I still make it my priority to think about skipping all my meals tomorrow?


	2. Thursday, Nov 7th 2019

Dear diary,

I had a conversation with myself yesterday; I need to freaking study. 

Remember how I said I have no motivation whatsoever? I still don’t. I mean, it’s only been a _day_, so... I wasn’t expecting a big change, but I still could use some motivation. 

Thank God, my dad was home when I woke up and offered to drive me up to a point to university. I barely talked to him, ‘cause I wasn’t in the mood at all, but he told me about some trouble that a colleague of his created, so I listened to him talk, which calmed me down a lot.

I arrived on time and went to the amphitheater, where I found A and G and sat next to them. S texted me to keep her a seat, which led to my talking with two new girls for a bit.

I’d say I’m sociable, but lately I’ve been shy. It was a good change to talk to someone else other than my 4 ‘friends’, though. 

Anyway, first class was Analytical Geometry I with my favorite professor. His lectures are really interesting and he’s funny, so it gave me some energy that I lacked since I didn’t sleep well last night either... 

Today wasn’t bad lecture-wise, expect for our Programming lecture; don’t get me wrong, lab is cool, but my lecture professor is tiring. I almost slept, but then I put my earphones in and listened to some music during the lecture, which... somehow helped me listen and understand what he was saying. 

Speaking of “understanding”... I am almost sure I’m going to fail. It seems too difficult for me to handle. On top of it being difficult, I don’t study. 

A and I left today and I think I mentioned how I felt like doing three things.

Number one: studying, which “I will not do because I want to do number two”.

Number two: drawing, which “I will attempt to do, but I won’t because I’ll want to do number three”.

Number three: watch dramas or YouTube videos.

Spot on except for the detail that I didn’t even _attempt_ to draw. 

Anyway, that made me angry. Instead of sad or disappointed, I’m just angry right now. It was a perfect opportunity to study, because I had the will and energy to do it, but... nooo. 

I danced a bit, so I now feel a bit more relaxed.

However, I still feel anxious. That’s because yesterday I overate and today I ate a lot, as well.

I must have definitely gained some weight, but I forgot to weigh myself since we were in a rush in the morning. I’ll be taking notes again starting tomorrow to mark my progress. I hope I don’t gain or else I’ll be disappointed. 

I’m sorry today was uninteresting. And I also feel exhausted and can’t stop thinking I have to wake up at early tomorrow (*cough* today) and come back late...

Goodbye for now, I’ll try to go to sleep..


	3. November 22nd 2019

I feel awful.

I whine a lot, I know. But that doesn’t mean I hate everything. 

I was able to enter the university I’ve wanted to get into for more than 2 years.   
  
And, don’t get me wrong, I am having fun. I love the subjects we’re studying, I adore the labs, which I thought I’d hate... However, I feel awful. 

I have no motivation whatsoever and I feel like a failure already, even if it hasn’t been 2 months since we started. 

Reality check: I can correct this. 

I haven’t been studying because I can’t seem to find a purpose to do so. I told my best friend about this and his answer was “Isn’t passing the exams enough of a motivation?” and then he kinda called me out and said “If you don’t study, you won’t pass, but you can do it slowly, little by little”.

But the thing is.. No. Passing the exams is not enough motivation for me to do anything. I just feel like not doing anything. Not studying, not going out, not watching movies or reading books. 

The truth is I’ve only been thinking about how nice it would be to end it all. I never asked for this and I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t want to do anything with my life and I can’t find any reason to want to do anything. 

My only true motivation is my parents. I owe a lot to them and I wouldn’t want to make them sad. 

Which in turn brings back self harm thoughts. If I can’t end my life, if I don’t want to hurt my family and friends by doing that.. Then the only option to cope with this is going back to self harming. Be it cutting or not eating I need to cope somehow. 

My arm is already scarred so it wouldn’t make a difference if I started again. And if I do stop eating, then hopefully I’ll lose some weight. 

Am I stupid for thinking like this? Surely. Am I going to stop thinking like this? I hope so. 

I don’t think I can stop yet though. I just can’t take it anymore and I feel like I’m going back to how I used to feel when things were the absolute worse. 

Just fuck this. 


	4. January 27th

It’s been long since I’ve written anything. A lot has happened, my life has changed in the last 2 months or so for better and for worse.

Christmas was a mess, mainly because all I could think about every day is how much of a failure I am, but also how my parents would react if I asked them to go to therapy.

I finally told them one week into 2020. They understood I guess. They talked to me about it and I told them a few things. They also agreed that if I feel like going to therapy then that’s obviously easily done.

I’m thankful for that.

I also got in a relationship with a boy I like. He’s very sweet. He likes to tease me a lot, but he makes sure to tell me I am beautiful and cute. He likes having to tell me (his words not mine), but he doesn’t like that I’m insecure about myself. We talked about it and we said we’ll work on it. I do make sure I tell him he’s cute when he is. I love spending time with him because I can just forget everything.

But, to be honest, I’m scared. I’m scared he’ll finally see how much of a coward and self-loathing person I am that he’ll eventually get tired. 

On another note, today l was late for about half an hour. And since my phone was on silent mode, I missed quite a few calls from my parents and of course they were worried.

But like... why? I was late for HALF AN HOUR. I mean.. if I studied out of town would my parents want a report from me every time I went out and came back home? It’s understandable to a degree, but suffocating.

My dad called me and he was angry that I didn’t answer my phone. I get it, but.. I don’t know, it made me so anxious, I was literally shaking. I also drank way too much coffee, which only made the situation worse. 

I was literally on the verge of having a panic attack right in the middle of the street, just because I got anxious my parents got anxious, you know? Fortunately, my boyfriend texted me and calmed me down, but I was so angry at myself that I worried my parents and at the same time have my boyfriend go through that. It hasn’t even been long since we started dating and I already feel like a burden to him as well.

Damn, I feel like a burden to everyone at this point, but I’m really trying to work on it. 

I still haven’t calmed down. What’s more, when I came back I said I’d study for a bit, but I feel so freaking shitty right now that I just felt like lying down, covering myself in a blanket or two and calming down. That’s what I need right now. I tried to watch a funny video, but it got on my nerves instead and I decided to write down how I feel, to see if maybe that helps a bit.

While I was watching the video my mom came in my room and saw I wasn’t studying and she said she won’t even say anything about my studying anymore especially when the exams are around the corner. 

I wish I could just say “hey, I feel like shit, if I study now I’m literally going to have a breakdown”, which I’m totally on the verge of having. 

I lied to every single one of my friends that texted me that I’m going to bed, just because 1) I don’t feel like talking right now and 2) I don’t want them to have to spend their time talking to me or try to calm me down when my “problem” is baseless anyway... 

If only someone understood how I feel, I could at least feel at peace a bit. I feel like dying right now. Literally feel like doing something I’d regret, but I’m trying to control it without using extreme methods. I feel like there’s no point in doing anything with my life. I feel like I’m useless, like I have no actual goals, like if I did have any I’m miserably failing at pursuing them. I feel like a burden to almost everyone and I’m scared that I’m going to lose everyone sooner or later. I just feel like disappearing. I hate feeling like this. 

Oh, also.. about the eating thing. I caught something the other day, got a very high fever, I could barely open my eyes at some point, so much for moving or eating. So I lost about 2kg in 2 days. And it felt like an accomplishment. It still does. So ever since then (it’s been about a week or so), I’ve barely been eating. I drink cocoa in the morning because my mom prepares it for me (despite not following her advice she says breakfast is important), I may drink some coffee in uni and depending on when I get home or if it’s the weekend, I lie that I ate or eat a plate of what mom made. 

I know it’s bad, but it feels almost euphoric to know that I am actually seeing results and also to have control over at least that. I love-hate this situation. Today, I drunk my cocoa and about 2.5 cappuccinos, but haven’t eaten anything. My body does feel hungry, but the amount of anxiety I’m feeling right now just pushes the thought of eating away. I don’t feel like eating at all and if I did it would make my stomach turn. 

In addition that makes me hate myself more; for lying, for still not learning and hurting myself to cope, for even liking what I’m doing, for having to reach extremes like that to feel like I’m accomplishing something.   
  


Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my therapist. He’s very nice, I like him. I will be honest with him and tell him how I feel. I really want to talk about things frankly with him, I want to not be afraid of crying in front of somebody. Though I am scared, since it’s only our second meeting. I don’t know what’s going on with me and it’s frustrating and tiring. Knowing I’m going to fail my exams doesn’t help either. But how can I even think about studying when I can’t even grab my pen without shaking. 

Yesterday, I was writing a report for my Physics lab. But I felt like shit. I started feeling like the moment I would start calculating I’d make mistakes. And the thought of making a mistake and ruining everything made me so nervous and scared that I just felt like giving up. I was texting my boyfriend at the time, so in hopes of trying to cheer me up he asked if I wanted him to come over. I told him I’d rather go to his place. That’s for two reasons; firstly, my bedroom felt like it was closing in on me, I needed a change of scenery and secondly, I didn’t want to disturb my parents (they’d wake up early the next day).

So, I went to his house and he took my mind off things, we didn’t talk about anything other than fun stuff. I was really happy at the moment and when I went back home I was okay, I guess. Didn’t sleep until 3:30am and got 3 hours of sleep, but still it was okay.

Fast forward to this morning, I felt tired. Thinking about it I was running on coffee, sugar and 3 hours of sleep all day, so yeah... I now get it.

I know feel weird. I stopped shaking, but I feel like crying (I already have while writing this) and I feel cold. It rained today and I got a bit wet so it makes sense that I’m cold. I also got a text from my best friend in uni (S) saying “When you see this, hope you know that I love you and if there’s anything you’re struggling with you can tell me.” and I have absolutely no idea how she knew. Did I give off weird vibes today? Is she okay? Did I say something weird? Did my boyfriend tell her I freaked out? Should I tell her? 

Anyway, I’m trying to find a way to cope. But it always seems like just when things areabout to get better, I just fuck it up.

Edit 2 hours later:

I just went through something really weird in the past 2 hours. And since I’m happy about how things turned out with this surprise of the day I feel like I should document this part of my life as well. 

So, when my boyfriend and I confessed to each other, he made it very clear that he really likes me beyond comprehension. I like him a lot too and he’s already got a very special place in my heart. As I mentioned earlier, he’s kind, he takes care of me, he’s patient and it’s obvious that he cares about me. I hope he can see I care for him a lot too. In any case, I know he won’t hurt me. 

So, because he wanted to be honest with me, he wanted to let me know that a few months before he met me, he had a very small crush on my best friend. He repeated again and again that he doesn’t think of her in a romantic way at all and that what he had for her can’t be compared to what he feels for me. I trust him enough to not question that at all, so I was honest and told him that he doesn’t have to worry, that I am happy he told me and that in no way am I going to let that small fact change how I feel about him. 

So, fast forward to two hours ago, I mentioned I’d just gotten a text from my best friend saying that she loves me and that I should call her. I was not in a state to talk at the moment, but I did call her about 40 minutes later. I didn’t expect what she was going to tell me at all! I was too selfish. 

She starts telling me that my boyfriend told her about how he felt, because he wanted to be clear about it to both of us. She mistook his intentions and thought that it was her fault. She apologized for that, when she had no reason to! I told her I appreciated her honesty and made sure to tell her that it was not her fault, that she had no control over it, that I don’t mind and that it’s all okay. 

We briefly changed the subject and hung up. But minutes later - if not seconds - I got a text from my boyfriend asking if my best friend was okay. I got scared because all I knew was that she’s anxious about the exams. Eventually I told him about our convo and he was glad she talked with me, because apparently she was considering to stop talking with him entirely in order to not make me feel sad!   
  


That made me sad, to be honest. So I sent her some texts stating that I love her to pieces, that something like that would never affect how I feel about her or my boyfriend. That I would always care about her and would never let anything like that get between us, that she’s above everything else. I told her not to worry about it again, made sure she’s okay and reminded her that if she needs anything I’ll always be there for her. 

We both cried. I’m sure she felt very burdened by it and I’m happy we were able to talk it through, because she means a lot to me. I cried because I love her a lot and can’t stand the thought of her being sad over this. And in no way would I have liked it if they stopped talking to each other. It would be very bad for them, the rest of our group of friends and me.   
  
At the same time, my boyfriend and I were talking about how we are glad everything is okay. I made sure to tell him I’m there for him too, reminded him that if I were mad over this then I’d be an awful human being and that he doesn’t need to worry either. 

So, all three of us ended up being a hot mess, but I feel like we bonded even more. I like that we talked about it. What I disliked was that I couldn’t give any of them hug, but I owe one to both of them when I see them next time face to face. 

I just felt like sharing some precious and happy moments of my life wouldn’t be bad. This “diary” dare I call it, should not be solely for the ”downs”, but also for the “ups”.

  
So, I’m glad to say that despite of today’s difficulties, today’s whining and today’s bad thoughts, today is ending on a happy note with two people that I love by my side. I may be selfish saying that, but I am so thankful to have them in my life.


End file.
